Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
She couldn’t stand it, and this morning, it made her feel like a child. Ally wanted off the rollercoaster.
Lord didn’t take her to his bedroom. This time, they entered his office and he gently put her down on the sofa. It was nice and soft. With her good hand, she tried to pull the base of the skirt down, but it was way too small. The woman had also said she wasn’t allowed to wear underwear. Could there be anything more humiliating now? Those men had seen her personals.
She’d gone down with a thump to the floor. She’d never been a violent person. All her life, she’d learned to take the punches, the nasty words, the pushing, shoving, all of it. She thought could take it.
Lord stood close and he removed his shirt, exposing his very scarred, but muscular body. She pulled away as he tried to put it on her. She wanted to cover her body, to help soothe the pain, but all those cruel words had hurt her more than the punches.
“Baby, I’m trying to help you.”
“I … it hurts,” she said.
He glared and she tried to get the sofa to completely swallow her up. Lord captured her face and held her still. “I didn’t order this. I want you to know that.”
She didn’t believe him. He was the leader.
“Ally.”
“My hand hurts. I think it’s broken.”
She lifted it up for him to see. His gaze didn’t waver from hers but she didn’t stop holding her hand up for him to see. She could barely move her fingers, and in the short space of time since they’d stomped on it, it was already swelling up.
Lord eventually looked at her hand, but she watched him as he looked down her arm. Last night, he’d been more interested in sucking her tits than paying attention to her arms.
“These are scars,” he said with a frown.
The tip of one finger traced over the old scars.
“You have scars.”
“What caused these?” he asked.
“A window,” she said. “My parents … they’d forgotten about me. They had gone to a party one Friday, leaving me in the car. They’d locked me in, but for two days, no one passed. It was like the car was crushing me. I had to do something. I managed to break the glass, clawing my way out of the front windscreen.”
Social services had gotten involved at the time, but they never took her from her parents. After the hospital, she’d gone right back home. Since that experience, small, confined spaces affected her. Being in that police officer’s trunk had shaken her up, bringing back old, unwanted memories.
“I’m going to call the doctor.” Lord stood, and she stayed seated on his sofa. His shirt was on the cushion beside her. Picking it up, she started to get into it, wanting the comfort of modesty.
She should hate his scent. Lord wasn’t going to protect her.
The whores hated her, but they were part of the club.
Pain shot through her body. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she contained any noise as she finally got the shirt over her head. She was so going to suffer for this.
Lord hung up his cell phone and came back to her. When his hands touched her knees, she jumped, jolting her whole body.
A string of curses rushed past his lips and she tensed up—that didn’t help her either. The pain was unrelenting.
Lord stood and left the office.
Being alone here didn’t make her feel comfortable. Fear traveled up her spine and she glanced toward the window. If he had guards on the wall, would they kill her if she made it past the wall? A quick death would surely be much preferred than taking constant beatings. After leaving school, she honestly thought she would be free of having to take a punch. She was so stupid.
Lord’s door slammed open, making her jump, but what surprised her was the woman behind him. It was the one who’d started this whole thing. She wasn’t coming willingly. Lord had her by the hair, dragging her forcibly into the room. He shoved her down on the floor, squatting enough to grab her around the throat.
“You look at this woman right now,” he said.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“I told you to get her a good breakfast and some clothes. Did I mention anything about hurting her? Humiliating her? You’ve hurt her hand and ribs, and I can say this, slut, the doctor is on his way. Every single injury she has, I’m going to make sure you’re punished with the same. The next time you see my woman, and she is mine, I suggest you get on your knees and pray for mercy. Your life is now in her hands. If she wants you dead, that is exactly what you’re going to be. Beg for your life!”